


The Words You Chose

by mvernet



Series: Blair's Poetry Journal [3]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e22 Night Shift, M/M, Poetry, Poetry within a fic, Sentinel Bingo, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: Blair keeps a journal of poems he never meant anyone to read. He accidentally gives it to Jim while sharing the copious amount of strictly scientific field notes he’s written on his favorite subject his Sentinel. Takes place after “Night Shift.”Five poems written by Blair Sandburg.Sentinel Bingo 2018Slash CardFive Prompts, Five Poems, Five PartsTrapped in a dream, Warriors, Slavery, The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg, SecretSeries: Blair’s Poetry Journal, Part Three





	The Words You Chose

Part Three

Jim returned to the couch and opened Blair’s journal to a new page.

 

Slavery

My master found me in a dark dungeon.  
He held me roughly against the stone wall.  
I was not frightened for he was my one,  
I knew in my soul he would not let me fall.

I followed him to his fortress of might,  
I was bruised by his comrade’s bitter scorn.  
I wore his collar, he held my leash tight,  
I longed for his comforting touch on my form.

I served him well, I was cared for and petted.  
If other masters stole me away in chains,  
They met his rage and deeply regretted,  
Taking his property and causing it pain. 

If my master would deign to set me free  
Such a foolish act would be doomed to fail  
My heart is bound with ropes no one sees  
Binding fast this slave to his Holy Grail.

Jim rubbed at his face. He was exhausted, but he could not stop reading.

_These words you chose, Chief. I don’t understand. Trapped. Master and slave. Is that how you see me? A harsh taskmaster you are bound to? That can’t be right, can it? You are right about one thing. The Blessed Protector in me hates to see you in pain. Do I think I own you? Do you think I think that? What kind of pain do I unwittingly cause you? Aw, Blair. I’m listening to your heart, but all I hear is despair. Why? Why is that?_

Jim almost threw the book across the room in frustration. He thumbed through it ruthlessly instead. It was more than half full. He stopped at a poem with an intriguing title.

_Come on here, Blair. You write anything halfway happy in this damn journal?_


End file.
